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Master and Commander
Posts: 1431
| Subject: BB Gun
Did anyone own a Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun when you were a kid? They sure were alot of fun!  |
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COMSUBBBS
Posts: 6180
Location: Summerville, SC | Subject: RE: BB Gun
My Dad tore my arse up a number of times after my "target practice" with one of those. |
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Senior Crew
Posts: 217
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
I got a Daisy Cub for Christmas, just after turning 7. My cousin, who was a couple of years older, got a Daisy Scout at the same time. The following Spring and Summer it was my job to shoot crows (or, at least try) out of our corn. You're right, bb gus are a lot of fun for boys, and getting one was a rite of passage, like getting a first pocket knife. |
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Plankowner
Posts: 9165
Location: Upper lefthand corner of the map. | Subject: RE: BB Gun
...nope. I had a 22 single shot at age 7 so I never had a BB gun. |
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Old Salt
Posts: 338
Location: Oak Island, NC | Subject: RE: BB Gun
You'll shoot your eye out with that son.
I had one and loved it. My favorite possession until I received a .22 at age 13.
Edited by rjs2005 2009-08-18 6:40 PM
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Great Sage of the Sea
Posts: 877
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
My father did.. and I've got it. After being in humid weather, the barrel's a bit rusty.. but I plan on restoring it. |
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Master and Commander
Posts: 1814
Location: Boydton, Virginia | Subject: RE: BB Gun
My older brother and I had them. We had BB gun wars in hay mow. Actually shot each other many times. Fortunatelly we matured a bit before graduating to .22's!!
Steamboat sends |
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Master and Commander
Posts: 1455
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
Sure did and I wore it out. I also crushed a few fingers by leaving the lever open and pulling the trigger. I was an experimenter as a kid, sometimes to my chagrin. You'd have to ask my Dad about 115 volts. A couple of my friends also had BB guns and we play cowboys and indians. I'm not saying we were the brightest bulbs on the tree. It all ended when I had to have an embedded BB removed from my bicep. I got my first 22 around age 12. My Uncle had a place in Jamesburg, NJ where we used to shoot. For you Jersey guys, his house became the park office at Thompson Park. My cousin was a WWII Tsgt and taught me well about sharpshooting. I absolutely don't recall what happened to my BB gun. It didn't disappear because of the arm incident. It might have been given away when my parents decided to do their Winnebago thing for three years once I enlisted and my Dad retired, all around the same time. |
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Plankowner
Posts: 5024
Location: Gulfport, MS | Subject: RE: BB Gun
I still have my original that my Dad and I bought in Peterson's Hardware Store in the mid-40's. Couple of weeks ago I bouht another one "just because I could". The price was right and it is beautiful...
http://www.sportsmansguide.com/net/cb/daisy-red-ryder-bb-gun-shooters-kit-reconditioned.aspx?a=401675 |
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Master and Commander
Posts: 1431
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
Pig - 2009-08-18 11:40 PM
I still have my original that my Dad and I bought in Peterson's Hardware Store in the mid-40's. Couple of weeks ago I bouht another one "just because I could". The price was right and it is beautiful...
Get out the tin cans and paper targets and have fun. Good for gettin rid of crows that like to eat the fruit off your trees and crap on your car. Yep, the Red Ryder is an icon that helps you relive the past and an heirloon for future generations.  |
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Old Salt
Posts: 419
Location: Anchorage, Alaska | Subject: RE: BB Gun
Sure did.
Got it for Christmas when I was in the 3rd grade at Niantic Elementary school.
There was an empty tract of land next to where we lived out on Osprey Road and I used to go stalking about.
I was convinced I killed a pheasant out in that brush (sure I saw it fall) and I searched for it for weeks...
Pretty sure now that I didn't even come close.
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Senior Crew
Posts: 217
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
Remember the tubes of BBs? I think they were red. I'm not sure how many BBs came in a tube, but I can remember how rich I felt when I had a brand new tube of them.
I remember exactly what happened to my Daisy Cub. We lived on a small acerage outside of town. There was a drive in movie place located about a half a mile away from us. About a year after I got the BB gun, a couple of sows escaped from our place and ended up on the grounds of the drive in movie. My dad, who for some reason had my Daisy with him, along with a few of his friends, chased the sows up and down the rows at the theater while a movie was being played. From what I understand, most of the moviegoers lost interest in the movie and started watching the hog chase. Some of them even joined the chase. Dad, his friends, and the sows were quite the hit. People started cheering their exploits whenever they seemingly had a sow cornered. Dad got so mad at one point that he struck a sow across her back with the BB gun, and that was the end of the gun.
He replaced it shortly thereafter with a Crossman pellet gun. |
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Master and Commander
Posts: 1431
| Subject: RE: BB Gun
BB gun pellats will raise a welt when contacting some poor unfortunate kid who either intensionally or intensionally became a target. On the other hand a pellet gun powered with C02 cannisters or were pumped up by hand would penetrate skin. They were used for rodents and rabbits in the garden patch. |
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Master and Commander
Posts: 1269
Location: Hopewell Junction NY | Subject: RE: BB Gun
RCK - 2009-08-19 2:00 PMBB gun pellats will raise a welt when contacting some poor unfortunate kid who either intensionally or intensionally became a target. On the other hand a pellet gun powered with C02 cannisters or were pumped up by hand would penetrate skin. They were used for rodents and rabbits in the garden patch.
I had the unfortunate experience of shooting myself with a Benjamin (hand pump) BB gun. I was so afraid of repercussions, that I hid the facts for a few days until I could not longer stand the pain. I still remember the Dr. visit, novocain, and the "plink" as the offending pellet hit the kidney-shaped pan.
Damn that hurt, and for several days afterwards. Not sure if they had pain meds in the early 50's, but I know none were administered to me.
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COMSUBBBS
Posts: 3202
Location: Alexandria, Virginia | Subject: RE: BB Gun
Yes, and a dear friend returned that memory to me. One day a DAISY RED RYDER THOUSAND SHOT RANGE CARBINE turned up at my door....The box had so damn many memories in it I damn near suffocated when they all poured out. This combined confession and personal revalation is dedicated to my wonderful shipmates Pig Henry, Jonny Krup and in seeking Cora's forgiveness for my childhood sins. As a kid I wanted to be a cowboy...I knew there was one helluva lot of cowboying being done because I heard em all on the radio and saw them all at the movies....Cowboying looked easy as hell, all you did all day was ride along with Smiley Burnett, Chill Wills, and Pat Butram....lettin' a lot of cows roam around, or shootin' indians and bad guys...catchin' bank and train robbers and waiting for the Sons of the Pioneers to pop up outta nowhere and sing you some song about endless skies, tumble weeds, old western trails, Santa Fe, dusty trails, punchin cattle and pattin saloon girls pretty bottoms. Everything you owned fit in your saddle bags, bedroll, and pockets...you drank redeye, ate steak and beans alot...drank coffee that would float a horseshoe, roped stuff you needed to catch and peed outdoors. You had a trusty horse that could do trick stuff like go get the sherrif and get him to round up a posse, count with his hoof...do algebra, long division and read a compass. I had a DAISY RED RYDER...so did Sammy Northington...the statute of limitations has run out on the wanton, totally useless slaughter of East Tennessee song birds....Me n' Sambo reduced the chirping and flying population of the mid-South by a substantial number....Those bad guys were using my Mom's birdbath and feeder as their base of operations. My cowboy career ambitions ended abruptly at a point of a disasterous consequence convergence. First, the garage roof was off-limits to girls...unwritten range law, no damn sissy girls monkeying around in the sacred male territory of the garage roof, so as the primary law enforcement element of Shingle Road, I shot her once in the bottom and a second time in the upper thigh...(I am told the thigh shot is still lodged in my sister's thigh. That is BS my sister pedals to people who don't realize that after you've shot a Daisy two and a half-a-million times the pump washer leaks air so g--dam bad you can't shoot through two sheets of wet Charmin'....Her bulls**t story had a beard on it that runs three-quarters of the distance between here a Nairobi.) Next, at Baylor Summer Camp...you got to ride real honest-to-god horses. Nobody told me the sonuvabitches came with teeth the size of piano keys. As they were seating me on this rhinoscerous size steed, he turned his head toward me, exposed his teeth and made a sound that I interpreted as the ones wild animals made, right before they ate six year olds. I distinctly remembering peeing in my pants and yelling..."Get me off this thing." That moment my cowboying career went down the dumper. Riding around on horses and singing with the Sons of the Pioneers were listed as "critical professional elements" in the WANTA BE A COWBOY classifieds. Being irrevokably scared of those scary beasts effectively ended cowboy career thoughts...even those "drop a quarter in me" mechanical ponies outside grocery stores damn near trigger a wet-my-pants" response. My career change to medical doctor happened abruptly when my first patient Nancy Knight submitted herself for panty removal and examination, in what normally passed for my Dad's garage....that career ended faster than my cowboy career...but it was wonderful during her four of five research examination appointments...I can still remember her pinafore and undies hanging on the lawnmower handle in the descreet undressing room of the INTERNATIONAL NAUGHTINESS RESEARCH CENTER and "trying to understand how babies get made" tool shed labratory. But, growing up there were stages of maturity, and trust you had to pass through to get to the manhood level of resposible citizenship...like Watusi's going out and killing lions bare-handed....First came your first Barlow knife. You took it to school because in the 1940's your dad taught you a jacknife was a pocket tool not something boys stuck in each other...Real redblooded American boys solved arguments by beating the living hell out of each other at recess on the playground...You knew when a fight broke out you had less that two minutes to bloody the other little bastards nose, before Miss Finny (Gestapo agent Finny) collared you...Next you got a Daisy Red Ryder...then a single shot Savage, Mossberg, or J.C. Higgins bolt action 22....Until you finally graduated to a Winchester 94, lever action 30-30 that was a man's equivalent of a RED RYDER...and would really play hell with stuff landing on the bird feeder...Just kidding Cora....Pig Henry's a ventriloquist. DEX |
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COMSUBBBS
Posts: 3202
Location: Alexandria, Virginia | Subject: RE: BB Gun
This post has dredged up so many long forgotten dormant memories. For many years Red Ryder and his sidekick Little Beaver peered out at you from a full page ad in BOYS LIFE...It was common knowledge that any boy who didn't have a Daisy Red Ryder was destined to turn homosexual or communist...or a homosexual, communist ballet dancer. You had to own one. And there was a certain protocol and set of rules governing ownership of BB guns. For example...Mail Men were government employees (back then stuff like the delivery of mail was an inherent governmental function...Nobody but high priced lawyers, college professors and folks who won $200 on a radio quiz show, knew whatn' the hell "outsourcing" was....You didn't farm out important stuff like delivering Valentines and junk you mailed off for to some bunch of non governmental idiot jaybirds....You screwed with the mail and J. Edgar Hoover showed up and dragged your butt off to Alcatraz...They didn't screw around in the 1940's and 50's...If you shot a postal delivery employee with your Daisy Red Ryder...The guy could instantly revoke your Second Ammendment Rights, Human Rights and all future Duncan Yo-Yo cupons...come to your house and tell your Old Man, who would take you out in the yard and make a human sacrifice to the Great God of Adolescent Stupidity. We shot kitchen matches out of BB guns by cocking them and dropping a wooden "strike anywhere" kitchen match down the barrel then cocking it and shooting the match at a brick wall. (FACT: You could shoot right through a set of nylon womens panties hanging on the clothesline...if you used a Daisy pump action rifle.) (FACT: You could take a MAXWELL HOUSE coffee can lid (the ones you had to open with a little wire key stuck on the bottom.) You wound a tin strip off that disconnected the lid...Then when the coffee was finished, you took the lid out to the concrete sidewalk and pounded the sharp edge of the lid flat with a ball-peen hammer. Then you poked four strategically located holes in the lid with an icepick and attached approximately thirty lids together to form and armored vest to stop BBs in a BB Gun fight. Daisy Red Ryder BB Guns turned 12 year olds retarded. Shooting girls, a wonderful sport was perfectly legal until the screeming harpies got a Supreme Court rulling that authorized women who got shot in the fanny...to persue the shooter, catch him and set fire to the ignorant sonuvabitch with high test and a blow torch. Nobody EVER figured out the purpose of that ring with about four inches of rawhide looped through it. The damn thing looked like four inches of a lumberjacks shoe lace. If you removed it, you immediately turned into a homosexual communist who ate Brussel Sprouts and sat down to pee. And, another critical Supreme Court descision allowed the owners of Daisy Red Ryder BB guns to shoot songbirds if they looked like Nazi's and Jap's at the time you drew a bead on them. DEX |
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Great Sage of the Sea
Posts: 606
Location: Citrus County FL | Subject: RE: BB Gun
Nobody EVER figured out the purpose of that ring with about four inches of rawhide looped through it. The damn thing looked like four inches of a lumberjacks shoe lace. If you removed it, you immediately turned into a homosexual communist who ate Brussel Sprouts and sat down to pee. DEX Yeah, that ring was a puzzle. My mother's brother, Uncle Richie (black sheep of the family type who used to show up every few years for a few days, borrow a fifty from my father, and be off...) solved the problem for me and the local bb-gun militia: it was a way for cowboys to lash their rifle into the the scabbard (that's where I learned that word!) hanging off their saddle! One favorite game to play -- especially if there was only one bb gun available -- was to have everybody lay on the lawn shoulder to shoulder. We'd take turns shooting the bb gun as straight up into the air as possible. The losers in this game were those guys who'd "duck and cover", they had welts on their back -- the winners were the one's with welts on their fronts. Maybe I got that backwards. (Putting your arm over your eyes was allowed...) |
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BB Gun
